Ice Cream
by freckles7
Summary: All Margaret wanted was a late night bowl of ice cream but she ended up getting a whole lot of eye candy. If ya know what I'm saying. *wink wink.


**Isaac/Margaret Fanfiction**

 **Ice cream**

All Margaret wanted was a late night bowl of ice cream but she ended up getting a whole lot of eye candy. If ya know what I'm saying. *wink wink.

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own anything having to do with teen wolf, I only own my original character Margaret.

Hello! So this is my very first story I have ever written and I look forward to someday years in the future rereading this and cringing. But in the meantime please help by reviewing and critiquing my work because I only want to improve. Please enjoy the story and join me and Margaret in fangirling so hard over Isaac Lahey.

I quietly sneaked down the stairs and tried to ignore the persistent grumbling of my empty stomach. I have been up for four hours helplessly absorbed in my new obsession TV show on Netflix, and traumatic break up of my fave OTP has left me craving the sweet deliciousness of Rocky Road. As I slide past my brothers Scott's door I try not to make a sound as to not wake him up, He and his friends had just recently defeated the dread doctors and were finally all able to sleep at night without being hunted for a little while.

I finally reached the kitchen and grinned when I saw the heaven that was our freezer, the light blinded me as I pulled open the door and retrieved the precious ice cream. Setting the carton on the granite counter I swung open the cabinet door and tried to get a bowl, emphasis on the tried. The glass bowls were far beyond my reach seeing as I'm a midget at 5'2. Signing I went to grab a kitchen chair and dragged it over to the cabinet wheezing as I completed the 2 yard journey. Hey it's not like being in your schools pep band really gives you muscles of any sort and I wasn't lucky to be a werewolf like my brother and have my asthma just disappear. I'm realizing that maybe getting a glass bowl down from the high shelf in pitch black darkness wasn't the best idea. Unfortunately I figured that out when I heard 2 bowls shattering on the cold tile floor.

Ugh, ok, now I'm stuck on an island surrounded by sharp glass just waiting to slice open my feet. I could yell and wake up Scott, but he really needed this well-deserved sleep after everything he has been through. Unfortunately my mom is yet again working the night shift at the hospital. I guess I have to get out of this myself, signing I slowly reached a foot down and placed my very tippy toes on the cold floor. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to come but thankful none came. I allowed myself to bask in the relief for just a sec-

"Don't move." A gruff voice whispered.

I could feel my heart practically implode from fright as I screamed and flew onto the ground. Glass shards were buried in my feet, arms, and hands and I could feel pain radiating from the cuts. Why the hell would you choose to pipe up when a person is practically hanging of a tall chair? Who thinks that that would actually help? I finally gathered my wits about me and looked up to see who practically murdered me. Oh diddlely darn why is Isaac here? Isaac aka. the guy who had just moved in with us after coming back from Paris to fight the Dread Doctors who you could feel his blue eyes look into your soul, and who you stayed up thinking about different storylines involving you and him. Who is currently looking at you worriedly and oh so shirtlessly while you are laying on the floor in sweatpants a band shirt, and your dark curly hair in a bright neon scrunchy.

"What are you doing Margaret, its 2 A.M.?" Isaac grumbled as he peered down at me. He carefully lifted me off the floor and placed me gently onto the island counter top, then he grabbed my arms and examined the cuts and the blood that was dripping down my arms. "Stay here while I go get some supplies, try not to move too much" he said looking at me with concern. As I watched his form disappear up the stairs I gave myself a moment to soak in those glorious because hot diggitiy that boy was fine. Then I started to think about this situation; I mean I obviously wasn't as ninja quiet walking down the stairs as I thought. Now I'm sitting waiting for like the hottest guy in my school, in my opinion at least, to help take care of me. For an added bonus I totally don't have a bra on. Why was he even helping me, we had only talked a few times before he left for Paris and even less times when he got back.

I quickly composed myself when I heard him come back into the kitchen carrying a small towel and some tweezers.

"Wait your feet!" I whisper yelled when I realized that he was hurting himself to help me. He just smirked at me and pointed to his shoe clad foot and how he was in fact perfectly fine. I felt my cheeks burn a bright red in embarrassment and looked down at my slightly bleeding feet. When I looked up I realized that with me sitting on the tall counter he was still dwarfing me with his tall and broad shouldered frame. I turned slightly redder when I realized it wasn't the worst feeling in the world. I felt his large hands gently hold my arm out and the calloused finger tips caressed my bare arms. Isaac slowly reached out with the tweezers and tried to pry out a particularly large shard of glass, I gasped in pain and he instantly froze. I screwed my eyes shut trying to block out the pain when suddenly it rapidly dissipated. I opened my eyes in confusion and quickly realized what was happening when I saw the black veins protruding on Isaac's hand.

"Stop! Don't you dare!" I yelled. I am not willing for others to hurt themselves for me, especially when they have been through as much as Isaac. An abusive father, getting turned into a werewolf, and having his girlfriend die right in front of him.

"Margaret its fine, I can handle it" He yelled. Holding my hand more firmly.

"That isn't the point Isaac! You shouldn't have to handle it. I don't like seeing you in pain! Stop!"

I felt the pain come back, but I managed to hold back my whimpers. He gently pressed each band aid over each cut and smoothed them softly. He gently washed the blood away and looked in my eyes for any more pain. Seeing none he gently lifted me and carried me bridal style into the living room and placed me on the old worn couch. I watched him move back into the kitchen and start to sweep up the broken glass.

Why was he doing this, he could of just gotten Scott and went back to sleep. Ever since he came back from Paris he has been more and more mysterious and closed off. Though I could see small fragments of the old Isaac like the Cheshire cat grin that I would stare at him to see and of course his wonderful obsession with scarves. Also of trait that I admire him the most for which was his stubbornness to put others before himself. So yes I do admit that I have had a not so minor crush on him for like two years but I could never measure up to Allison, who was strong and brave and I, well, I can't even get a glass bowl down. I barely am tall enough to be able to ride a car without a booster seat and my freckles only accentuates my pale skin and dark hair. No guy wants that especially not the guy that I want, I could never be Allison.

"I don't need an Allison, sometimes I need a Margaret." He said to me. Did I just die? Did I really say that out loud? Can I please die now? I blushed a lovely tomato shade as I looked up and saw that handsome grin. He handed me a bowl of ice cream and I think I literally moaned with delight.

Just than the light flicked on and of course I shrieked with fear diving behind the large body of Isaac. And that's how Scott found me clinging to Isaac covered in ice cream.

Thanks for reading! Have a lovely day!


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